Page 125 of Break Her Heart
A strange lightness settled in her chest—not joy, not exactly. But something like it. Contentment, maybe. Clarity. Like the sharp edges of grief had dulled just enough to breathe around them. Some things that once clawed at her mind now felt distant, inconsequential.
She adjusted her grip, shifting the weight in her hand without thought. It wasn’t until she glanced down that she realized she wasstillholding August’s heart. Somehow, she hadn’t let go. Couldn’t let go.
She wiped the last trace of blood from her chin and began to hum. It was an old tune. One her mother used to sing while sewing late into the night. The sound echoed through the corridor as she descended the stairs with a lightness that felt unnatural but welcome.
She smiled to herself, the great room calling to her like a stage waiting for its final act.
As she stepped through the grand doors, the music faltered. A haunting silence rippled across the room. All eyes turned. Gasps scattered like broken glass as vampires froze mid-dance, mid-sip, mid-sentence.
She didn’t look at them.
The hem of her gown whispered over the marble as she glided forward. She ascended the steps to the thrones. At the top, she paused, letting her gaze sweep over the empty chairs—theirs. His. Hers. She moved to August’s throne and ran her fingers along the armrest, then the underside until she felt something odd. A small stone, just slightly raised.
She pressed it.
With a soft click, the back panel slid open, and she reached in without hesitation. Her hand closed around a familiar hilt, but she no longer felt the hum of the dark power that called to her before. She pulled the Blade of Aros free, the steel gleaming like shadow and moonlight.
“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, lips curling at the edge.
If they didn’t have the dagger, they couldn’t let Carrow’s soul out again.
She stood back up to see everyone staring at her from below. “Don’t mind me.”
Some of the guards exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes flicking from her face to the heart in her hand. She followed their gaze, blinking as if surprised to still be holding it.
“Why haven’t you let it go, Bronwen?” She didn’t mean to say it out loud.
But she couldn’t. Her fingers were locked around it, as if her body had made the decision for her.
The guards shifted, subtly moving to block the stairs that led back down. She stared at them a beat too long, then turned to the edge of the platform. She blew out a breath and stepped off.
There was no rush of fear, no twist of panic. Just a smooth descent, her body moving like it had always known how to fall without consequence.
“That was easier than I expected,” she murmured to herself.
In a blur, she slipped through the crowd and out of the room, leaving silence and fear in her wake.
“Get her!” someone finally yelled.
So she ran.
Her bare feet hit the stone floor, silent and swift. The weight of the blade and the heart didn’t slow her. If anything, they steadied her. She burst through the front doors of the castle, the night air sharp and cool on her skin. A thousand stars blinked down at her as she sprinted down the long road toward the gate that led to town.
Behind her, the guards shouted to each other. Orders barked, boots slamming against the ground. She didn’t stop until she spotted Adar pacing in the shadows near the gates, his hands raking through his hair as panic etched deep lines into his face.
He turned toward her, eyes widening at the sight of her clutching both a heart and a blade. Whatever words he had died in his throat. There wasn’t time for explanations. Soon, they’d be overrun.
Bronwen didn’t hesitate. She thought of the place she’d seen in one of the old tomes and shoved the image into Adar’s mind.
His eyes went wide, his mouth falling open. “What the fuck is that?” He nearly stumbled back, shaking his head.
“Take us there,” she commanded.
Adar threw up his hands. “That looks more dangerous than where we are now!”
“Just do it, Adar.” Her words snapped like a whip, daring him to argue again.
Something in her voice silenced him. He swallowed hard, shoulders rigid, then reached for her hand as if it were the only thing keeping him steady.
